The Runaway
by HiImDelta
Summary: Fed up with her family's abuse, Pacifica runs away. Now she must travel hundreds of miles with just a suitcase and a small survival pack. Can she make it to LA, or will she be lost forever? One thing's for sure: She's never turning back.
1. The Great Escape

_Beee-_ The alarm barely got a word in before I slammed the snooze and shut it off. It was supposed to wake me up, but I couldn't sleep. I spent all night thinking about every detail of my plan. Where I was going and what I was going to do when I get there. I still wasn't entirely sure, but I'd have plenty of time to figure it out. Throughout the night, I'd written and rewritten the letter. Once, twice, ten times. Smudged lead from bad erasers and tear marks covered the page, making the writing illegible. I rewrote the letter again on another sheet of paper. After all, the letter would be useless if they couldn't read it. Even then, falling tears turned some words into blurs of lead. I wasn't quite sure if they were tears of joy or tears of sorrow.

I placed the sheet of paper aside and opened my suitcase. I removed everything I had packed, pouring the contents onto my bed in a large heap. Staring at the pile of clothes and assorted items, I wondered if I was making the right decision. Probably not, I thought, but I'm going to do it anyway. I repacked the suitcase, going through my mental checklist. One week's worth of outfits, a light jacket, a heavy jacket, my phone, my laptop, all necessary chargers, a baseball cap, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, toothbrush, and my purse. I stashed the purse with five hundred dollars in cash, knowing my cards would be useless if and when my family cuts me off.

I stared at the clock and saw 1:37 staring back at me. I decided it was now or never, and it wasn't going to be never. I picked up my suitcase. It had wheels, but I couldn't risk waking my parents. I'd have to carry it. My small stature meant the luggage hovered barely a foot off the ground. My hand grabbed the door knob, and I opened my door just enough to creep through, cringing at the loud squeaking of the hinges. Before I left it, I read the letter once more.

_Dear Parents,_

_If you're reading this, I'm already gone. Don't come looking for me. I'm never coming back to this town, to this house, to this world of lies that our family has built. I can't keep living like this. You forced me to do this. Goodbye._

_Pacifica_

I taped the paper to my door and exited into the hallway.

Using the flashlight on my phone to guide the way, I made my way to the stairs. The large wooden staircase creaked with every step, making me flinch as I descended. I reached the ground floor and gazed at the huge doors in front of me. I was glad to be off the wood and onto the soft, quiet rug. Knowing an alarm would sound the second the doors opened, I turned off the security system, leaving only the cameras working. Only slightly hoping they'd get robbed that night, I approached the doors. This is it, my last chance to stop. To return to my room, my family. My horrible family. A small golden bell sitting on a small table beside the entrance caught my eye. I set my bag down on the rug and walked to the table. I lifted the trinket carefully, making sure it wouldn't ring.

My eyes were glued to the bell. This is how they controlled my life. This tiny little thing controlled my entire life. Memories of my "conditioning", as they called it, flooded my head. I felt pain cover every part of my body. The bell's ringing filled my brain. "Pacifica! Get in the dress!" "NO! I don't wanna be in the pageant!" In my mind, I saw the first day they used the bell. I was only five years old. My mother grabbed the bell in one hand, ringing it loudly as she used her other hand to slap me. I could still feel the stinging of her hand. That's how they trained me. Every time I did something wrong, they'd hit me while ringing the bell. Eventually, like a dog, I learned to associate the bell with pain. As much as it stung, the pain reminded me why I was doing this.

I snapped out of it, almost dropping the bell in the process. I carefully carried it over to the doorway and put it down on its side. Staring straight at the security camera, with anger in my eyes, I lifted my right foot and placed it so that it was just barely touching the bell. In one final act of rebellion against those monsters, I forced my foot downward, flattening the golden trinket's thin metal with ease. Leaving the bell smashed on the rug, I grabbed my large suitcase, opened the mighty doors, and escaped into the night.

The cold air rushed past my back, ever so slightly pushing me forward, toward the gate at the opposite end of the courtyard. I lowered my bag, extending the handle and placing its wheels on the concrete. With the mighty outer walls of the Northwest Manor blocking sound from entering, I could be as loud as I wished. I sighed aloud. "This is it, Pacifica. No turning back now." I passed through the gate and made my way down the giant hill my former home rested upon. There was only one thing left to do before leaving Gravity Falls forever.

The town's streets were silent, not a soul in sight. I was the only one awake. Except, of course, for McGucket, who I'm convinced never sleeps. As I moved through the sleeping town, fear took over me. I flinched at every slight noise. Eventually, I reached the vast forest on the outskirts of town, and the maze of dirt paths that snaked through the trees. Still, I knew my way to my destination. My fear only got worse as I made my way through the woods. As much as this forest scared me during the day, it was much, much worse at night. With the moon seemingly absent in the sky, the only light I had was my phone.

It must have taken me an hour, but I reached my destination. A small cabin lay before me. I placed my bag on the dirt and grabbed a pebble. I stared at the tiny rock in my hand and thought to myself. He helped me once. Maybe he'll help me again. I pinched the small stone between my thumb and pointer and threw the pebble towards the triangular window. Maybe.

* * *

A/N Thanks to Ramblings Productions for editing this story. I hoped you enjoyed it.

Also, I'm doing a new thing where if you review, you get a preview of the next chapter in the form of the first 400 words (rounded up to the nearest whole sentence) in a PM as soon as they're written. So... yeah. Keep in mind that guest reviewers will not get previews since I can't PM them.


	2. Preparing for the Worst

The pebble soared through the air before hitting the window with a soft _dink_. I waited for a bit, watching the window intently. When nothing happened, I threw another rock. I repeated this process for a bit until finally, he appeared. A young boy, my age, squinting at me through the window. He was missing his signature cap and vest, wearing only his red shirt and shorts. He stared at me for a while before disappearing from view.

As I walked towards the cabin's entrance, I wondered whether he was actually coming down to see me or if he'd just gone back to sleep. My question was answered when the front door creaked opened to reveal Dipper Pines. "You'd think with the whole being rich thing, you'd be able to afford a watch."

"Listen, I just- I need your help."

He sighed. "Again?"

"Again."

He sighed a second time before surprising me. "Fine. Come in."

I stared at him wide-eyed and shocked. "Really? Just like that? You don't want anything?"

"Well, actually, I'd like you to leave. But I also know you wouldn't be here at two in the morning unless it were important. Plus, it's not like I'm going back to sleep, so…" He held the door open, inviting me into the shack's gift shop. Souvenirs covered every inch of the store. Bumper stickers, shirts, and they even had Mystery Shack closed the door and met me in the middle of the shop. "So, why are you here? Is that ghost back?"

"No. The ghost is still gone." I paused for a minute, trying to find the best way to phrase my next statement. I decided on just saying it outright. "I'm running away. From my parents. From my life."

He looked at me with a confused expression. "Well, that explains the suitcase. So what do you need me for?"

Now it was my turn to surprise him. I looked him straight in the eye. "I want you to come with me."

He confused expression turned into a shocked one. "Come with you?! You can't be serious!"

"Of course I'm serious."

He started to get frustrated. "Pacifica, you can't just ask someone to root up their entire lives and come with you on your little adventure." He began pacing around the room. "How can you even ask me that?!"

"So… I'm guessing that's a 'no'?"

"Yeah. I'm not going with you." He stopped pacing and thought for a minute. "But, if you want, you can stay here."

"No, I can't. I have to this..." I debated swearing in front of him, but decided against it. "place. My entire life here was built on lies, and I can't be around that anymore."

"Well, at least stay the night. Where are you gonna go anyway?"

I had thought about my destination extensively. I thought about going to Portland, or Seattle. Maybe Sacramento. Though I ended up deciding on a much larger city. "Los Angeles."

His wide-eyed face returned. "Los Angeles?! That's hundreds of miles away!"

"I know." I had done my research.

"How are you even gonna get there?"

"Buses mostly. And walking. Lots of walking. And maybe some hitchhiking. I don't know."

His gaze moved to the suitcase sitting next to me. "Move," He said, walking towards my luggage. I stepped aside. He zipped it open and rummaged through the contents. I could tell he was looking for something, and that he wasn't finding it. "Where are your water bottles? Your flashlight? Your first-aid kit?" I pulled out my phone and showed him the flashlight function. "Well that's nice, but you're not gonna survive out there unless you're prepared, and you quite obviously are not."

I got frustrated with him. "Not prepared? I brought clothes and hand sanitizer. I even packed my computer. And I have half a thousand dollars cash."

"Well great, you can use the bills as a bandage when you inevitably get hurt. Have you ever been camping before?"

"Sleeping in the dirt and getting bit by mosquitos? Of course not."

"Well, that's what you're gonna have to do if you're going to LA. You can't exactly walk across the interstate. Come with me."

I followed him to his room in the attic. We woke his sister up as soon as we entered, though she just seemed confused to see me. "Pacifica?"

"Uh… Hi."

"Dipper, why is Pacifica in our room at two in the morning?"

Dipper was too busy looking through his closet to get into the details. "I'll explain later. Do you know where my camping bag is?" Mabel was about to respond, but her twin interrupted her. "Never mind, I found it." He pulled out a rather large, light blue backpack. It had small two pockets on the back, with one large one above those. He threw the bag at me. I caught it with both hands but staggered backward at the bag's weight.

"What's this?"

"Your survival kit. Flashlight, batteries, two water bottles, a lighter, a pocketknife, an umbrella, the works. Oh, and a first aid kit."

"Do I really need all this?"

"Do you want to make it to LA in one piece?"

"LA?" Mabel asked, still tired and confused.

We paid her no attention. "Yes."

"Then yes." He grabbed the bag from me and dumped the contents out onto his bed. He sorted them out so that I could see them. He explained how to use everything. He showed me how to use the lighter to start a fire, how to use the pocket knife's many functions. He taught me how to defend myself, and how to use the first aid kit, should I ever get hurt. There was also a guide showing which berries were poisonous. I didn't think I needed that, seeing as I didn't plan to spend much time in the wilderness, but he insisted. "Are you still sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure. I can't stay here."

He started packing up the backpack. "Do you have somewhere you can stay in LA? Friends?"

I sat down on the bed. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly the best at making friends. The only reason I had friends was because I was rich. And now that I'm not, I have a feeling they won't be too helpful. You two are my only real friends." He sat down next to me and looked at me for a few seconds. Then, he did something completely unexpected. He hugged me. I wanted to struggle out of it at first, but I found myself enjoying his embrace. After a minute, he let go and looked me in the eye. "I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm actually gonna miss you."

"Yeah, well, I guess I'll miss you too."

Mabel spoke up. "I still have no idea what's going on."

We explained the situation to Mabel. As soon as we had finished, she too hugged me, though only for a second. Dipper continued to interrogate me about my plan. "Well, if you don't have anywhere to stay, where are you gonna, well, stay?"

"I hadn't really worked that out."

"Did you actually think about this at all?"

"I figure I'll sort that out when I need to."

"Fine, just promise me you'll stay in contact with me."

I was amazed that he actually wanted to stay in touch. "Really? Okay, I guess."

"Good. I'll set up a place for you to sleep, and then we'll go over more details in the morning."

I hesitated for a minute before saying "Actually, there's one last thing I need your help with."

He looked straight at me and seemed reluctant to ask. "What?"


	3. Skin Deep

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Dipper's voice boomed through the house. "That's insane! You're insane!" He pointed right at me, making me flinch. "I can't believe you'd think I'd help you with this stupid plan."

"Come on." I pleaded. I needed him to do this. "It's not that deep in there. Just under the skin. It's not like you'd be giving me brain surgery."

"No. You do know I'm only 12, right? What makes you think I could even do it?"

"I don't know. Who else could I have asked?" He had to do it. No one else could. No one else would. Maybe he wouldn't either.

"I don't know. A doctor?" He asked sarcastically.

"They would've just sent me home, or worse. If I don't get this thing out, they'll be able to find me anywhere. I would be back here in less than a few days. Maybe even a few hours." My parents, with all their love, had gotten a tracker implanted in my arm when I was a toddler. Just another way they treated me more like I was their dog than their daughter. Now, I needed to get it out. Or rather, I needed to get Dipper to get it out for me.

"Why don't you just do it yourself?" That struck a nerve.

"I've tried!" I screamed at him, fed up with his refusal and patronizing. "I tried over and over to cut my arm open enough to pull it out, but I can't. Not with just one hand. I need two. That's why I need you." I had tried. Many times. This was not my first attempt to run. I've tried many times, but I never got far. After a few attempts, I learned about the tracker. Since then, I had spent many nights trying to carefully cut it out, usually using a steak knife. Every time, I ended up with a bloody arm and no tracker. The pain would always become too much for me to handle. My hand would twitch, and I'd end up making horrible cuts. Eventually, I'd just stop trying, at least until my next escape attempt. After several cracks at it, I ended up with a web of scars and still no tracker.

After I had met Dipper, I thought maybe I could use him. Maybe this time, I'd actually be able to get farther than the Oregon border. But unless I could convince him, I doubt I'll make it out of Gravity Falls. "Well, you can forget it. I'm not cutting open your arm just so you can run away from your mommy and daddy." I growled slightly at the way he referred to my parents. Our conversation had kept Mabel awake though she was reluctant to join in. She was trying to fall back to sleep, to no avail. The only other person in the house was their great uncle. And apparently, we'd woken him up.

"What's going on here?" He said, entering the bedroom. "Why is she here?"

Dipper stopped gazing daggers at me and turned to his uncle. "She's staying here for the night." His eyes returned to me. "And leaving in the morning."

I stood my ground. Getting that tracker out was my only hope of leaving my old life. "I'm not going anywhere until there are stitches in my arm and a tracker in my hand."

"What is she talking about?"

"She wants me to perform actual surgery on her," Dipper explained, trying to convince me of the plan's insanity.

"I need him to-" I paused, a revised plan appearing in my head. "He can do it," I muttered to myself. "HE can do it," I repeated aloud, pointing at the middle-aged man.

"Me?" Their uncle became even more confused.

"You. You need to remove the tracker in my arm."

"Hold on." Dipper entered back into the discussion. "He's not gonna do it either. Nobody is going to perform surgery on you."

"Exactly. Why the heck would I help you? You can forget it. Go back to your stupid family."

I pushed his comments aside. "Please. I'm running away, but if I don't get that tracker out, there'll be no place for me to run. Please." I was practically begging at this point.

"No." He was on his way out the door. I had to think. He was my last chance. Think. Come on, think!

I got it. "I'll pay you." He stopped dead in his tracks.

This made Dipper worried. "You can't honestly be considering-"

"How much?" The old man asked, still poised to walk out.

This really made Dipper worried "Oh my God."

"I don't know. Five bucks?" I knew the man was cheap. Hopefully, that would be enough.

He thought it over for a few seconds. He then turned to face me. "Ten." I was amazed. I was expecting a counter-offer but I didn't expect it to be that small. I wasn't the only one.

"TEN DOLLARS?! That's it! You're gonna perform surgery on her FOR TEN BUCKS!?"

The con-man held out his hand. I hesitated, for a minute before quickly shaking his hand. "Deal." I grabbed one of the many bills I had stuck in my bag, along with a squirt of hand sanitizer, and handed it to him.

"How have you actually agreed to do this?!" Dipper was still angry, both at my proposal and at his great-uncle's acceptance.

"Why not?" Came the old man's simple reply.

"BECAUSE IT'S INSANE!" Dipper really didn't want me to do this.

"It's not that insane." I insisted, following the old man to the living room. I had won. I was actually going to get it out. I was actually going to get away from them.

Dipper followed us, still attempting to talk us out of it. Mabel had decided to stay in her room, not really caring enough to join us. Once we reached the living room, their uncle had me cover the table with plastic wrap. I laid down on the sterile table. Dipper insisted on staying.

"I'm just making sure he doesn't kill you."

My makeshift surgeon returned with what looked like an Exacto-knife. I assumed that would be the scalpel. I was pleasantly surprised, having expected a kitchen knife. He also brought a towel. "Here. Put this in your mouth."

"Ew. Why?"

"So you can bite down on it. We don't exactly have anesthesia."

That scared me. It made me realize that this was actually going to happen. He was actually gonna cut open my freaking arm. I had to stay strong. Any pain I would feel here would be nothing compared to the pain my parents would cause me. I grabbed the towel.

"Come 'ere kid." He beckoned Dipper over. "You're going to help me with this."

The kid stayed put. "Oh no, I'm not. I'm not taking part in this."

"You said you were here to make sure I don't kill her, right? Well, I need you to help me so I don't." Dipper reluctantly walked over and took his place next to his current guardian. "This is gonna hurt like crap. Try not to go into shock. And kid, try not to faint."

"I'm not gonna faint," Dipper replied back, hurt at the blow to his manliness.

"And try not to move. I don't want to make any more cuts than I have to. Speaking of which, where do I even cut?"

"You'll see the other scars. It's around there. How do you even know how to do this?" I wondered. Perhaps I should've asked that sooner.

"I just do, okay?" He replied quickly while rubbing disinfectant on my arm and on the blade. He seemed reluctant to explain himself. But I could care less where he learned how to get it out, as long as he got it out. I put the towel in my mouth. But I had other things occupying my mind. "Okay. Last chance to get out. You sure you wanna do this?" I nodded, unable to speak, partly from the towel in my mouth, and partly from fear. "Dipper, hold her arm down. I don't want it moving." The boy did as he was told. I could barely hear Stan mutter "I can't believe I'm doing this." I couldn't believe it either.

"Okay. Here we go." He rolled up my sleeve to reveal the web of scars on my arm, each a failed attempt to remove it alone.

Dipper seemed surprised to see so many. "Wow. You really want this thing out." My right arm instinctively tried to move when the cold blade hit it. But I couldn't move my arm at all with Dipper holding it down. He's stronger than he looks. Then the blade started cutting. It wasn't that bad at first, but as it got deeper, the pain grew. I was never able to go very deep on my own. I bit down as hard as I could, nearly biting off my tongue. I could fell the warm blood dripping down, trying not to think about what the actual cut looked like. I wasn't to the point of screaming, yet.

"You said just under the skin, right?" I nodded quickly, trying to fight the pain. My body was on the verge of going nuts, or shutting down. But I wouldn't let it do either. "Well, I think I found it. I'm gonna need to open the wound a bit more, so I can get it out." I could feel more cuts being made. Black, mascara-stained tears were streaming down my face, cleaning off what was left of the previous day's makeup. My jaw was starting to become sore. "Okay, I definitely see it. I'm going to grab it. Hopefully, it's not tied down." I felt 2 fingers enter the large cut, Muffled screams emerged from my mouth. My vision began fading as my body begged me to allow it to pass out. But I needed to feel this pain. I needed this to push me to finish what I'd started. Unfortunately, it seemed Dipper's will was not as strong. The grip on my arm loosened up, and I used all of whatever strength I had left to keep it still. I glanced over at him and saw him mouth "So much blood" while staring at the open wound. His hands lifted from my arm, and he backed away from the table. "Kid, what're you doing? Get back here."

"I can't do this. It's too much. I ca-" He stopped short and fell to the ground, presumably out cold. With nothing on my arm, it started twitching, trying to rid the cause of my pain.

"I told him not to faint. Almost got it. I can feel it. It's not sewed in. Come on…" I could feel him inside my arm, desperately trying to grip the small chip. "Got it!" His grip tightened on the chip. I felt the fingers exit the wound. "You're losing a lot of blood." I could feel the liquid pooling up around my arm. I was freaking out in my mind, and I feared to go into shock. I could feel my other arm begin to shake, just as it did when I attempted to do this alone. "Cover the cut with your other hand." My other hand moved quickly and gripped my arm, the vibrating palm partially blocking the blood from exiting my body. I heard the man mutter under his breath "This was easier in prison" as if I wasn't scared enough. The pain had lessened a bit, but it was still on the verge of being unbearable. The old man grabbed a sewing kit. He lifted my hand and applied paper towels to clean up the wound slightly, just enough for him to start stitching. The needle stung as it entered and exited my skin, the cold metal chilling whatever flesh it touched. The blood flow all but ceased as he closed the cuts he'd made. "Okay. Finished. That went… better than expected." His comment made me wonder how bad he expected it to go. My right arm was lying in a pool of blood. My left hand was pure red. Some of it had reached my hair, turning it from blonde to scarlet. The pain continued, despite the wound being shut. But it was over. I had done it. I survived. It was out. "Here." The chip landed in my hand. It was so small. My grip tightened around it. With no reason to stay awake, I allowed my body to shut down. I closed my eyes and blacked out, a slight smile shining on my face.


	4. Putting the Run in Runaway

I wasn't sure if the pain in my arm had woken me up, or if it was the result of my waking up, but it the first thing that hit me. I tried to scream, but I couldn't move my mouth. I couldn't move anything. I could, however, hear a faint voice over the ringing in my ears. I caught a glimpse of an arm as someone grabbed me and shook me. My muscle functions returned all at once, and I attempted to sit up, but it was holding me down. I squirmed, trying to break free of its grasp. "Pacifica! Pacifica!" The voice became louder. After a minute of struggling, I gave up. I waited, terrified, for the person to do something. "Okay, I'm going to sit you up now. Slowly." I recognized the voice. "Don't make any sudden movements."

"Dipper?" I whispered. A wave of pain hit me like a train, and my hand instinctively tried to travel to the pain's point of origin. The boy noticed this and grabbed my arm.

"I said no sudden moves. And no touching your wound. Grunkle's orders." I recognized their attic and realized I was in Dipper's bed. Every sensation and memory of the operation returned all at once.

"THE TRACKER!" I screamed, trying again to move my hand.

A grunt emerged as he struggled to resist my movements. "Calm down. It's out." The stitched up incision caught my eye. Last time I had seen that arm, it was in a pool of my own blood. I was surprised it wasn't permanently stained red. "Stan told me he smashed it. You should be safe from your parents now."

"My parents!" I quickly glanced around the room, searching for a clock. 9:23. "Oh no. I have to leave. Now." Believing I had calmed down, Dipper had let go of me. I rushed out of the bed and ran down the stairs. He gave chase, and I arrived in the living room. Their great uncle was in there watching TV, and I had grabbed his attention. Pain shot through me as a hand grabbed my stitched arm.

"Hey. Where do you think you're going?" He said. "You shouldn't be up."

"Where's my bag? Where's the backpack? I have to leave now."

At this point, Dipper had caught up with me. "You can't leave. Not yet. Not until you're wound heals."

"And how long will that take? Look, my parents are already up. They probably already know I'm gone. They're gonna come looking for me. Or at least send servants to. They're gonna send one here. If he finds me-" Before I could finish, a knock came from the from door. "That's probably one now."

Mabel, who had been eating in the kitchen, gleefully skipped towards the door. I noticed her and dove behind the chair. "Hi there!" Mabel greeted the butler.

"Hello miss. Have you at all seen Miss Pacifica Northwest this morning?"

"Pacifica? Oh yeah. She's-" Dipper rushed to the door and silenced his twin with a hand over her mouth.

"Not here. We haven't seen her. At all. So bye-bye." I heard the door slam shut.

I stood up. "Are you stupid?"

"What? I told him you weren't here."

"Yeah, but you stopped your sister and slammed the door in his face. He's gonna think that's suspicious. Now they're probably gonna send the police. Look, I have to go. Now where's my stuff?"

Realizing I was "In here." He led me to the kitchen. Near the table, I saw my bag and the backpack he'd packed for me, as well as a third bag.

"You packed another bag? Dipper, I can only carry so much."

"That's not for you. It's for me. I'm coming with you."

"You're what?!" He couldn't be serious. "You can't be serious."

"Look, you have no idea how to survive out there. You can't even move your arm! And if that wound opens again, you're not gonna be able to stitch it back together."

"And you can?"

"I'd at least be able to use both hands." He was determined to go. But I was determined to make him stay. The irony of this role reversal was not lost on me.

I found a pen and pad on the counter and started writing. "Look, you have a family here. A family that loves you. You have a sister that looks up to you. You have a place in this town. What do I have here? Nothing good."

"You have me." This made me grin.

"That's not enough. They need you. More than I ever could." I grabbed his wrist and put the paper in his hand. "You wanted to stay in touch, right?" I picked up the backpack and my bag and headed towards the back door, checking through the window to make sure my path was clear of any servants.

I opened the door and took one last look at him. "Fine," He said. "But do me a favor."

I didn't have any time to react to the kiss. It was quick but still amazing. "Just... don't die or anything, okay?" At that moment, I honestly considered staying. But I knew that this journey was more important. I nodded, still slightly in shock over the kiss. I shook out of it and gave him one last message.

"I'll come back. Someday." I didn't know if that was a lie or not, but it felt like the truth. I closed the door and ran off into the woods, a smile on my lips.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

The walk through the woods was much easier this time. I was still on alert, looking out for my parent's servants. But I could, at least, see more than a few feet in front of me. Once I was out, I made sure to take back alleys through the small town. I avoided everyone I spotted. I knew every idiot in this town would do anything for money. I wondered how big the reward for my capture was. My parents could offer one dollar and the entire town would become a search party, so I had to be careful.

I had donned my hat and hood, my bright blonde hair being a dead giveaway. I hadn't gotten a chance to wash it, so dried blood still covered most of the follicles on my left side. I saw a couple of my parent's hired helpers around town, but I stayed out of sight. The small town made my trip short, and eventually, I arrived at my destination.

Well, technically I arrived in the alley next to my destination. The bus stop. Being the tourist trap that it is, Gravity Falls had it's own inter-town bus lines. They wouldn't be able to take me straight to my destination, but they'd be able to get me to a station that would. Unfortunately, my parents knew this would be my only way out of town, short of walking. So of course, they posted the police out front. Those two were idiots, but even they would recognize me, or at least stop me to see who I was. The front entrance was out of the question. There were side windows, but the lady at the desk might find it suspicious if I suddenly crawled through the windows.

The backside was more promising. Two small windows, about seven feet off the ground, leading to the bathrooms. I moved the dumpster under one and climbed up. It opened easily, and I tossed my backpack and bag through, hoping the clothes would be enough padding for my laptop. The window was still pretty small and was still seven feet off the bathroom floor. I hoped the clothes would be enough padding for me as well. Once I squeezed about halfway through, my weight brought me down, and I went crashing onto my bag. I aimed to land on my right side, as landing on my left would open my stitches for sure. It still hurt a lot, but the bag did a good job of protecting me.

I didn't get up right away. I let the pain die down first. Once the pain became bearable, I peeled myself off the bag and opened it up. The laptop was fine. Good. I exited the stall I had landed in but stopped when I saw something I had never really seen before in real life. Urinals. I landed in the boys bathroom. And the door is right next to the desk lady. This was gonna be awkward. Luckily, the bathroom was empty. My clothes did a good job of hiding my identity, but they weren't too great at hiding my gender.

One thing I had going for me was my height. Or rather, lack thereof. I was small enough to sneak out and crawl along the outside of the desk. Hopefully, the desk lady wouldn't investigate the bathroom door opening on its own. I opened it up and pushed my bag through. Then I crawled through. The desk was immediately to my right. I attached my bag to my backpack and the door handle, making the worst rope, for lack of a better word, ever, and once I got close to the front of the desk, I slammed the door. That got the desk lady's attention. As soon as I heard the chair turn, I popped up, making sure to cover my face with the bill of my cap. She turned back to face the front and jumped when she saw me.

"Where did you come from?"

I lowered my voice in an attempt to mask it. "I just walked in." Please believe me. Please believe me.

"Oh, I guess I didn't hear you come in." Yes! "How can I help you?"

"I need a ticket to whatever station can get me a ticket to L.A."

"Okay... The nearest one wold be in Caster. The ticket is ten dollars. But you need to be 18 to buy it." Crap. Another thing my clothes failed to hide was my age.

I grabbed a fifty out of my pocket and showed it to her. "I'm sure we could work something out."

"Who the hell are you, kid?" Crap. This wasn't working.

"Uhmmm..." Before I could come up with a good lie, she got up and flicked my hat off. My cover was blown.

"Pacifica Northwest? HEY!" She called towards the front doors. "HEY! SHE'S IN HERE!" I turned to run, but she grabbed my hood. I fell back as the collar of my jacket tugged on my throat. "Sorry kid, but there's a thousand dollar reward on your head." I figured there would be. I was able to grab my backpack, pulling it free from the bag it was attached to.

"Let me go!" I yelled as I swung the backpack around, smashing it into her torso. It wasn't enough to knock her down, but it was enough to loosen her grip. I tugged free from her grasp. The yelling had attracted the attention of the sheriff and his deputy, and they ran in.

"Hey, it's her!" I ran for my bag.

"I got her." The deputy ran straight at me. I ran toward the window on the right, opening it and crawling through. The deputy continued his pursuit, diving through the open window. The alley was narrow. I heard his head smash into the side of the building on the opposite side of the alley. I winced at the sound but didn't look back. I ran towards the main street. But once I heard the siren in their car turn on, I returned to the back alley. Outrunning them would be easy. Outrunning their car would be a bit harder. But there was no way they could drive it through these alleys.

Unfortunately, the town didn't last forever. I ran out of buildings once I reached the road out of town. I ran away from the road but they had managed to follow me with their car and caught up with me. I was so close to getting out of that town. I just needed a way to lose these two. I had run almost half a mile. I couldn't run anymore. I figured my best bet would be to lose them in the woods. I ducked into the forest beside the road. These woods were much thicker than the one I had gone through to get to and from the shack. They also lacked paths. I hadn't had a chance to put on my hat, so my hair was flowing free. With all the brush and branches in my path, I only got about ten feet in before my long hair got stuck. The dried blood at caused my hair to stick together and that caused my hair to get caught on a branch. From there it got tangled. I started tugging, trying to ignore the pain that came from pulling at hair.

"There she is!" I guess my purple jacket stood out in the forest. They were coming. I had to do something. There was no way I could untangle it in time. I only had one choice.

I stopped tugging and untangling and got my opened the survival backpack. I grabbed the pocketknife and folded out the small scissors. I hesitated for a second, then started cutting. It was hard with tiny scissors, but they were sharp. I cut off the tangled mess, leaving my hair short. Cutting through the hair stuck together with dried blood hurt, but I got through it. By the time I finished, the two officers were mere feet away. I turned tail and ran deeper into the forest. Leaving the mess of hair behind.

I ran. And ran. And ran some more. Even when I was sure I lost them, I ran more just in case. I had no idea how I was gonna get out, but that wasn't important at the time. I ran until I couldn't run anymore. By the time I stopped, it was after noon. I knew that I had entered the forest by running west, so after a half hour break to catch my breath, I use the compass on the pocketknife to guide me northeast. By the time I made it out, the town was long gone.

The only man-made objects I could see were the railroad bridge and water tower. Knowing that sleeping on the ground was out of the question, I headed towards the tower. I climbed up and watched the sun set. I hadn't eaten all day, but with no real meals around, I ate a snack. I was used to eating small meals. Sleeping high up would be scary, but sleeping on the ground would be scarier. I'd be risking being eaten by some animal, or worse, being found. I set up my sleeping bag and used my bag as a wall to prevent me falling off the tower. It was my first real day on the run. And all the running made sleeping easy. But I knew the next town was miles away, and the bus was obviously out of the question.

Looks like I'm walking.


	5. Thoughts from the Road

Nothing wakes you up as fast as remembering you're about a hundred feet off the ground. Luckily, after a good eight hours of sleep, I was still on the water tower. Though I suppose if I wasn't, waking up wouldn't have been an option. I was scorching since I didn't remove any clothes other than my hat when I fell asleep. That, combined with the heat of an Oregon summer and my sleeping bag, meant I was practically drenched in sweat. But since there were still cars on the road below, and no space up here, I decided against changing clothes. I figure I'd have to live through a lot worse before my journey was over. Might as well get used to it.

Lugging the bag up the ladder was hard since I was working against gravity. But now, I could make gravity work for me. After relocating the rather valuable laptop to my backpack, I simply dropped the bag off the tower. Watching something that heavy fall a hundred feet was oddly satisfying. Though I think I might've hit a squirrel.

After that, getting down was still hard, the heavy backpack and sweaty hands made certain of that, but it was easier than it would've been if I hadn't remembered that gravity was a thing. Once I was on the ground, I checked to make sure I hadn't hit a squirrel (I had not.) and went on my way. My first goal was to make it to the next town. Once I got there, I would eat and see if they had a bus station. If they did, and there weren't any police near it, I'd go from there.

But right now the only two ways of getting there were walking and hitchhiking. The road was full of cars, but I knew that a young girl riding in a car with a mysterious older man would never go well. So walking it was.

Walking for long distances was never something I needed to worry about. We had a limo for that. So walking for miles and miles was a new experience for me. And it sucked. (Though miles and miles might be a bit of an exaggeration.) I ended up walking for fifteen minutes before I had to take a break. It wasn't my fault, though. The chase yesterday left my legs sore, the scar on left my arm meant I could only use my right to carry the heavy bag, and the backpack was made my back hurt. So after fifteen minutes, my entire body was in pain. All I could think while I was walking was "People do this for fun?".

After settling down to take my break, I grabbed out one of the water bottles that Dipper had packed and took a drink. It felt great, but it reminded me of something. I hadn't peed since the day before I left. The sudden realization hit me. I ran towards the woods, leaving the bag by the road. Once I reached the forest, I tried to figure out how to do it. I had never had to do it outside of a bathroom. Eventually, I figured it out. It must've lasted minutes. Having seen movies, I grabbed a leaf and used it to clean up. It was a horrible experience. I pulled up my pants, and exited the woods, watching around me to make sure I wasn't seen. The whole event just made me sweat even more. I took off my hoodie, stowing it in my bag. I knew I'd eventually have to pee again, but I still tried to hold it.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

I wondered why nobody was stopping. The road wasn't extremely busy, but there were still cars on it. You'd think at least one would stop when they saw me. Maybe ask where I was going, or even offer me a ride. I mean, I wouldn't accept the offer, but still. Maybe the blood on my hair was scaring them off.

Oh god, my hair. I hadn't thought about it since I cut it. A quick inspection confirmed my shortened hair. Believing short hair to be "unladylike", my parents never let it go above halfway down my back. I have had long hair for as long as I could remember. I swear they put hair growth formula on my head when I was a baby. Now, the longest strands barely went past my neck. Somehow, it felt... liberating.

I still hadn't washed the blood off. I hadn't come across a source of water, and I didn't want to waste the water in my pack. Once I found water, I would use the scissors to even the lengths. I knew there was nobody around to care about my looks, but my old life had conditioned me to obsess over beauty. So I cared.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

My journey had suddenly become a lot more stressful.

I saw a police cruiser on the side of the road. It was on the side opposite to me, but as soon as I saw it, I ducked into the woods. Once I got further down towards it, I discovered it was not from Gravity Falls, but I still didn't come out of the woods. See, one of the reasons I slept in the tower was so that if the police continued down the road, they wouldn't find me. But now I couldn't stop thinking about them still looking for me on this road. And maybe my parents had reached out to the other towns, using their police to look for me.

I kept to the woods for the next couple miles. I didn't see any more cops, so I came out. But I still kept my eye out for them.

Once I got back on the road, I took a break to eat my... lunch, for lack of a better word. The meal could barely be considered a snack. A cup of pudding and a granola bar. Yum. It would have to do for now. I'll have a bigger meal once I reached the next town. Unfortunately, at my current pace, I would have to camp for the night. Technically, walking through the night was an option, but I wasn't sure if I even could. It was still only noon, so I had time to think about how I would go about camping without a tent.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

Someone stopped. I was walking down the road, still on the lookout for a pond or creek when someone stopped. A car came drove up a little bit ahead of me and stopped. And I swear my heart stopped with it.

I stayed a few feet behind it, analyzing it. It was a small red pickup truck. Oregon license plate. No bumper stickers. I guess the driver had expected me to keep walking until I was next to them, because when I didn't, they put it in reverse. I jumped back when it started moving towards me. I thought about running but decided against it. I thought maybe they're nice. I mean, they're probably an axe murderer, but maybe they're a nice axe murderer.

But it wasn't an axe murderer. It was a lady, which, honestly, didn't make me any less scared. She asked me what I was doing. I didn't answer. Then she asked if I needed a ride. I still didn't respond. I just sort of stared at her, unsure of what to say. Last time I answered a lady trying to get me transportation, she sold me out to the police.

I decided to continue walking. I think this confused her. She kept driving slowly next to, asking me if I was okay. Then she asked me something that made me speak up. "Should I call the police to pick you up?"

"No!" I sort of yelled my answer at her. Realizing my mistake, I lowered my volume. "I'm... I'm fine. Just taking a walk." I don't think she believed me, but she seemed to go along with it.

"Okay..." She drove off after that. I ducked back into the woods for the next hour or so.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

I thought about calling Dipper. I had kept my phone off since I'd arrived at the Pines' cabin, knowing my parents would try to call. I wondered if he had tried to call me. I wondered what I would say to him. Nothing had actually happened, except for the chase, which he probably knew about already. I decided to wait until I reached the next town.

Then I thought about calling my parents. Not because I wanted to talk to them, but because I wanted to be angry at them. I wanted them to know how I felt. I had left the letter, but part of me wanted to tell them with my own voice. Maybe I would call them someday. But not today. Let it linger, I told myself.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

Dinner was about as eventful as lunch. But since I had spent the whole day walking, well, okay, some of the day walking, I decided to give myself a treat. Instead of a pudding cup and granola bar, I had a pudding cup and two granola bars. Yay. Rationing wasn't my issue. I knew that I could easily restock on food when I reached the next town. The problem was that Dipper's camping pack was full of food you have to cook. And that meant starting a fire. Having never started one before, I figured it wouldn't be a good idea.

But now came the hard part. I was walking along a country road with nothing in sight but fields and rocks and woods. And I had to find a place to sleep. I still had a few hours to find one, but I didn't want to wait too long. Still no water. If I find a suitable sleeping place before I find water, I think I'll end up using what's left in the water bottle I had been drinking out of throughout the day.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

It was about nine when I came across the barn. I had seen them along the way, but this was the first one I'd seen that didn't look... occupied. The field around it was empty, no crops being grown at all, and calling the house across from it decrepit was an understatement. The barn wasn't exactly in a better state, but now that I knew ghosts were real, creepy old abandoned houses were the last place I wanted to stay. Sure, the barn also had a chance of being haunted, but I figured the chances were slimmer.

The barn was mostly empty. There were some stables, and the ground was mostly covered in hay. There was a ladder leading to a second story. I left my bag on the first floor and headed up. The first thing I noticed was the cobwebs. They were hard to miss. Especially the one that covered my face as I got near the top. I recoiled, almost falling off the ladder. I climbed back down, got out my umbrella, climbed back up, and swung around like a blind knight in the middle of a battle. Once I got the place cobweb free, I set up my sleeping bag.

Since I hadn't found water, I got out the bottle I had been drinking out of. It was about two-thirds empty. I used one hand to hold my hair up and the other to pour water on the ends. With some scrubbing, the blood eventually came out. Then I used the pocket knife to cut it down even more, to make it even. By the end of it, my hair didn't even go down my neck. It still wasn't completely even, but it would do. It would grow back, of course, but not blonde. When I was young, my parents decided blonde hair was more sophisticated than black hair. So every week, I'd have to bleach it and dye it.

Now I didn't have any bleach or dye. And even if I did, I wouldn't use it. I'm leaving my old life behind. It was my parent's decision to give me blonde hair. But not anymore.

Haircut complete, I went back to my sleeping bag. Even though I knew I would only make me sweat, I donned my hoodie, calling it "extra protection". It took awhile to fall asleep, thanks to my aching, sweating body. At least, I could look forward to the town tomorrow.

Assuming my body doesn't shut down completely before I get there.


	6. The Fear of Falling

"Caw, caw."

"Five more minutes..."

I patted the hay covered floor, subconsciously feeling for an alarm clock.

"Caw!"

I momentarily felt feathers as a beak snapped my hand.

"Ow!"

I quickly woke up as I withdrew my hand, inspecting it as I glanced over to see what bit it. A large crow squawked at me as it started to flap its wings, flying circles in the large barn. I watched the bird as it continued to caw at me menacingly. Suddenly, it swooped towards me. Damn thing would have scratched my right eye out if I hadn't moved out of the way in the nick of time. It flew upwards, then repeated its plunge again, persistent in hitting me. With my instincts taking over, I rolled over to my side, causing the crow to miss me. As I evaded the black avian, I unintentionally got my myself into a large pile of dusty, dry hay. Safe for the moment, I watched as the continued to fly around the barn and occasionally dive bomb the hay pile that I was in. The irritated crow continued its attack for a few more before it flew through a large hole in the barn's ceiling, apparently giving up its interest. "Stupid bird." I sighed in momentary relief though it was short lived as I felt something poke my rib.

Startled again, I grabbed the protruding object. It was blunt, somewhat long, dirty, and had a texture that was completely foreign to me. Hoping to satisfy my curiosity, I wiggled around in the hay to see what it was. It looked like as if it was a bone of some kind. Slightly relieved, I got out of the hay pile, brushing the dust and dirt of my encounter with the crow. A loud grumble from my stomach notified me of my hunger. I noticed the morning sunlight illuminated most of the barn as I rifled through my backpack for a small snack. I thought about grabbing another granola bar but saw that there were only about five bars left. Great. A bit irritated, I got myself a pudding cup, sat down, ripped through the packaging, and began to hungrily feed myself.

While I ate, my mind pondered about the oddity that was the old bone in the ramshackle barn. It could have just been the remains of a bird that died, though, unless ostriches have started calling Oregon home, it was much to big to belong to any bird. My gaze met the hay pile as I dipped my finger in the nearly empty cup, scooping out the remaining gelatinous food. I licked my finger clean and tossed the pudding cup aside. My hunger was still unsatisfied, but it would have to do for now.

I stood over the hay pile. I hesitated, fearing what I could find in the pile. My curiosity managed to outrank my fear and I grabbed hay, tossing it over my shoulders. I threw the large wads of hay behind me, kicking up enough dust to completely fill my nose. I let out a sneeze that kicked up more dust than it blew out but continued to reduce the pile.

After removing a third of the hay, I saw the dirty gray bone again. Feeling a bit anxious to see what was hidden in the decaying hay, I doubled my efforts. After a solid minute, I was able to find more bones with odd scratches next to the first one. I was able to deduce that it was a rib bone belonging to the same skeleton as the bone that poked me earlier. Curiosity overtaking me again, I removed more of the hay that covered the lower parts of the rib cage. I felt uneasy as I saw that there were bones that formed a human foot. I also noticed the other leg was somehow rendered a stump. Anxious as to know what type of skeleton I was looking at, I removed the hay that covered what I assumed to be the upper torso of the skeleton. I was stunned to have seen what I'd found.

A complete human skeleton. Well, a mostly complete skeleton. Though it was missing its eyes, the skull seemed to stare at me. I wasn't scared, just unsettled, knowing that I had spent the night next to it. After my stomach had settled, my discomfort turned to pity. This person, whoever they were, died here. I wondered if anybody even looked for them. If someone had, they failed. Suddenly, a thought hit me. If I wound up dead, would I ever be found? Would anybody even know? The thoughts frightened me more than the skeleton. I wasn't even in the next town, and yet I was already so far from that place I once called home. Dipper might come looking eventually, but would he be able to find me? One little girl in the middle of the Northwest?

I looked back at the set of bones, trying to remove the thoughts from my head. "Well, I found you," I reassured it. I replaced its hay covering. The pile of hay wasn't exactly a pharaoh's tomb, but I figured it was better than nothing.

The feeling of death stuck with me as I descended the ladder to the ground and exited the barn. As I left, I spotted the seemingly abandoned house. I thought about checking to see if anybody called the place home. However, I also thought about how the conversation would go. 'Hi, I'm a young defenseless girl, that nobody would find should I die, that spent the night in your barn without your permission and happened to find the skeleton of a person that you may or may not have killed, and that, if you did kill, you would not want to be found.' Brilliant. Deciding not to visit the house of a possible murderer, I made my way back to the road.

With my aching legs keeping my pace down, I was traveling at an average of one mile an hour. I had no idea how far away the next town was, but I still couldn't see it by the time I stopped for lunch. "Stupid Gravity Falls," I muttered to myself with a mouth full of granola. "So far away from everything. Might as well be its own country." I swallowed and sighed. I arose from the ground, suddenly realizing my jeans had become more dirt than denim. I needed to find someplace to change.

At this point, I had reached a highway of some sort, so houses were absent. Only cars and forest. As I continued down the long road, I noticed a sign for a park and decided to investigate. The gravel parking lot housed a couple cars, but I was far away enough from Gravity Falls to not care if I was spotted. The park was mainly just an empty grass area, with some trails and restrooms. I bee-lined towards the girl's bathroom. I had never been so happy to see a bathroom. I used one of the stalls and changed clothes, replacing my dirt covered jeans with a pair of clean ones. As I removed the phone from my pocket, I thought again about calling Dipper. And again, decided to wait. Thinking about Dipper did remind me to do something, though. I removed my shirt and hoodie, but not to change. I needed to inspect my stitches. The wound looked clean enough, and it had miraculously remained closed. It still hurt, but then, so did almost every part of my body. The area around it was bruised and swollen, turning my upper arm a dark blue, with small areas completely blacked out. I decided to apply some hand sanitizer to it, just to be safe. I doubt it would do anything, but who knows. I put my clothes back on and went to wash my hands. However, as soon as I reached the sink, I became paralyzed by my own image in the mirror. Dipper had cleaned the runny mascara from my face, but some hints of black still remained. However, my most jarring feature was my hair. The hairline was sort of uneven, and some dried up blood still remained, but all-in-all it looked pretty normal. Or at least, it would to anyone else. But to me, it was the very definition of abnormal. For as long as I could remember, my hair was long. Now, I looked closer to Dipper than Mabel. I wondered if my parents would even recognize me. I mean, _I_ barely recognized me.

After a couple of minutes, I was able to tear myself away from the mirror. I concluded that my unrecognizability was a good thing, though that conclusion was an excuse more than anything else.

I grabbed my bag and took one last look in the mirror. I donned my hood, covering my hair with the cloth, and exited the bathroom. I thought about talking a walk around the park but decided against it. Until I noticed something amidst the trees. I saw a bridge, going across a river that flowed far below. However, it wasn't the actual bridge that caught my eye, but the young boy, dressed in a green hoodie and jeans, standing on top of the side rail.

Figuring that watching a river diver would be interesting, I ventured closer. I walked close to the bridge and hid behind a tree, poking my head out just enough to watch. The boy, not older than Dipper, was just standing there on the left guardrail, facing away from the edge, toward the opposite rail. After waiting a minute for something to happen, I noticed his worried face. Curious, I called out to him.

"What are you doing?" I asked, dropping my bags, stepping out from behind the tree, and making my way toward him.

The sudden sound startled him, and he turned to face me. "Stop! Don't come any closer! Or I'll... I'll jump!" I had just stepped onto the concrete bridge, but I stopped there, doing as I was told. Whether he had meant to or not, the boy had answered my question.

Not wanting to startle him anymore, I slowly raised my hands and removed my hood. I kept my arms raised, and called out to him again. "Hey, calm down. I'm staying here." I hesitated, knowing that I had just changed into clean clothes, before wincing slightly and sitting down on the dirt-covered concrete, making sure to keep my movements slow.

My compliance didn't seem to calm him, as he was shaking with anxiety. I waited for him to respond, but when nothing came, I repeated my question. "What are you doing?" I already knew the answer, but I wanted to find out if he did.

"I... I..." He stammered, trying to think of a good answer. Or any answer at all. "I'm finally getting away from them!"

Though I had never acted on them (short of my failed self-surgery attempts), thoughts of suicide had come up in my mind over the years. I think my constant attempts at running away helped me resist the thoughts, as running away always seemed like a better idea than just ending it.

"Getting away from whom?" I followed up, trying my best to mimic the tone of the therapist my parents had sent me to.

"Why do you care!?" The answer was somehow completely expected and unexpected at the same time and left me without a good response.

I thought for a minute before deciding to ditch the shrink talk and go for a more personal approach. "Because I know what it's like to hate someone this much."

It seems my answer was as unexpected to him as his was to me.

"Listen," I continued, standing up and slowly walking towards him, hands still held high. "Come with me. I've run away from my home, much like you have. I'm going to somewhere better. You can join me."

"No!" His exclamation halted me. "I... I'd probably just die out here anyway." He turned around, facing the river below. I started walking again. "As long as I'm alive, I can never get away from them. Goodbye."I saw his body tilt, and I picked up my pace, sprinting towards him. I reached out towards his falling body but caught only air. I turned away and ran to the end of the bridge. I waited for a splash.

But none came. I cared not, and once I got to the end of the bridge, I turned around again and ran down the hill leading to the river, taking off my hoodie and tossing it aside along with the phone in my pocket. I jumped into the water and swam as fast as I could towards the middle of the river. When I saw no floating body, I dove down, opening my eyes just a little and feeling around. I searched for his green hoodie, but didn't see anything, and when I reached the bottom, I realized that there was no splash. I surfaced, my eyes burning. I rubbed them until the pain was bearable, and, after a short coughing fit, repeated my search. Once again finding nothing, I swam towards land.

I attempted to understand what I had just seen. I had encountered ghosts, but they aren't supposed to exist outside Gravity Falls. So then, it must have been my mind. A mix of hunger, fear, and pain, I told myself.

Still in shock, I sat on the hill for a good ten minutes. Pain from my arm shook me out of it, and I checked my wound. Blood mixed water was dripping from the injury, but the stitches remained closed. My entire body was soaked in dirty river water. "So much for clean clothes," I muttered to nobody.

Retrieving my hoodie and phone, I made my way across the bridge, keeping my gaze on the spot where the boy had stood. Once I was across, I grabbed my bag and returned to the bathroom. I took another look in the mirror and smiled at what I saw. My hair, wet and dirt covered, had become a dirty blonde. Dirt and water completely covered my body. Brown, muddy spots appeared all over my arms, torso, and face. Back home, I would've hazed anyone this dirty. Now, I couldn't help but like my new appearance.

I changed clothes, again, and dried myself as best as I could, using an entire roll of paper towels. Dirt still covered most of my arms and parts of my face. I thought about leaving it on, but decide it would make any human interaction that much harder.

After wringing them out, I placed the wet clothes in a pocket of my suitcase, away from the rest, adding laundry to my mental to-do list, along with food and calling Dipper.

I walked out and spotted the bridge once more in the distance.

The fear of death was still with me, and, with my seemingly successful escape, it was slowly overtaking the fear of my parents.

I still didn't completely understand what I saw, or, at least, what I think I saw, but as I returned to the road and began walking again, I took solace in the fact that I'd have plenty of time to figure it out.


End file.
